#cardiophilia writing

[roxiewyatthb]

Exam Room Performance

Synopsis: Fantasy Hospital. Doctors and Nurses are in silk robes and examine your heart in unique ways. Speaker stethoscopes, big screen ultrasounds, and plenty of exercise. As requested by @aheartsbeat wc: 1.2k cw: none

The room is cold and bleak, typical for an examination room. However, this was far from your typical examination room. This one was special. Different.

Each doctor and nurse wore luxurious silk robes with nothing underneath -- hard nipples and obvious bulges were not so hidden under the thin fabric.

And you. You also wore one of these robes. It was your favorite color and much different from your average, cheap hospital gown.

The room while it lacked in color and decoration, made up for it with the most interesting instruments you've ever seen; a giant screen that took up nearly an entire wall and stethoscopes with unusual bells.

Bells that looked like mini speakers.

On the other side of the room was a single stationary bike and treadmill. Would you be using those too?

"Please, lay down." One of the doctors spoke up in a soft tone, gesturing at the bed behind you.

Even the bed was different. Instead of those horrendous, rock-solid "beds" in normal hospitals, this one looked much softer -- comfortable.

And you were correct.

This bed rivaled the one you had at home. Soft and comfortable. You could easily fall asleep on this.

But a sleep study was not on the agenda for today.

Today you were going to be put through several cardiology examinations.

This small reminder caused your heart to pick up speed.

Looking back at the screen and stethoscopes on the wall, you pondered what they could possibly do with those. Soon, your questions will be answered.

With you now lying on the bed, several doctors and nurses got to work.

Some grabbed stethoscopes from the wall, two others grabbed what you assumed were ultrasound wands, while one started to set up the screen on the wall.

You gulped nervously and tried to focus on your breathing but your chest moved with each pounding beat of your chest -- giving away your excitement to the room.

The nurses with the stethoscopes gathered around one side of your bed while the doctors with the wands gathered on the other side. The one by the screen stood over by it.

Without warning, one of the doctors untied the knot on your robe, opening it up and exposing your chest to the room.

A few beats after that, cold gel was applied to your skin right over your heart and the two doctors with the wands placed them down on your chest.

In an instant, you saw your heart pounding on the giant screen on the wall.

It showed two different views. You're unsure which ones you're seeing, but you can't deny it was mesmerizing.

Watching your valves snap open and closed. Pounding harder at the scene but still staying strong and steady.

"Look at your heart," The doctor by the screen said while lifting their arm as if presenting it. "It's working hard...it's truly something, isn't it?"

Before you could think of a response to the question you felt several cold objects against your body -- the nurses holding the stethoscopes -- and quickly the room filled with the sound of your heart beating in sync with the ultrasound on the screen.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Loud and fast.

You wondered how fast it was going until you realized the numbers in the far corner of the screen.

"128 BPM".

And steadily climbing.

You notice it get to around the 140s before the doctor at the front of the room once again speaks up.

"Okay, now I'm going to ask you to work your pump out for a bit." They paused for a second, "10 minutes on both the treadmill and bike at the highest intensity setting should be good enough."

And with that, the nurses and other doctors removed themselves from you, allowing you to get off of the bed and onto the stationary bike to start.

Once you were settled there, two nurses and one doctor put their instruments back on your chest, your heart on display and beats filling the room once more.

You started to pedal and quickly your heart rate picked up.

"That's good, just like that." The doctor praised you while watching your valves snap violently.

140...145...149...153...

Your heart was now racing.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Your breathing picked up, lungs trying to provide enough oxygen for your hard-working heart.

Finally, you reached mid 170s while on the bike and the doctor let you take a short break to catch your breath.

You felt your heart move the hands of the nurses and doctor up and down with each beat, hearing the chaos through the speaker stethoscopes. Watching the screen along with everyone else.

Your heart still beat strong and unwavering.

Only about 30 seconds passed before you were asked to move to the treadmill, wobbling your way over.

Two different nurses and the other ultrasound doctor now joined your side, waiting for you to adjust the intensity of the treadmill, then they placed their instruments on your chest just like the previous ones.

Just like the other times, your heart presented itself on the screen. Your heart rate lowered a bit, now at the low 130s.

But that would quickly change.

The belt started to move and you got to work, along with your heart.

As if it knew the deal already, your heart rate skyrocketed fast, reaching high 180s within 2 minutes.

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

"You can do better than that." You swore you heard that one doctor say something again but you weren't sure. It could've been your own mind saying that this time.

No matter, you still pushed yourself.

You picked up your pace on the treadmill, breathing even heavier now, heart pounding and racing harder and faster as everyone in the room listened and watched intently.

Your valves were moving at such speeds that they seemed to not be moving at some points.

186...190...194...199...

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

You felt as if your heart was going to pound out of your chest by now. Your pulse roaring and bouncing off the walls, throbbing against your neck -- you even felt it in the rest of your body.

200

You let out a sigh of relief as you were asked to stop the machine. Slowing down until it came to a complete stop.

Without removing the wand and stethoscopes from your chest, the nurses helped guide you back to the bed where you laid down again and tried to catch your breath.

Your heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute. Throbbing almost painfully against your chest. Now with this new angle, you were able to see it visibly shake your entire body, taking the hands of the nurses and doctor with it.

You turn your head to view the screen, watching as your heart slows but still continues to thump with purpose, now within the 150s range.

"Good job. We'll just keep you here, listening and watching your heart until it reaches approximately 60 to 70 beats per minute." The doctor that stood by the screen said with a smile.

At this rate, you'll be in this room with your heart on display all day.

Not that you were complaining.

[materiaheartt]

Finally decided to do some writing!

Click here to read

incredibly self-indulgent with these two

private link to avoid tags, hope you understand ^^

[risherrd]

#heart beats. write privately and please share me

[sweeter-than-teafood]

One very minor criticism of Sitri’s design, from the viewpoint of someone who shares this guy’s kink irl,

Okay, so bby likes to listen to hearts. Mood af.

But as someone who does that irl with the person I’m romantically involved with, the following position is so comfortable for that purpose;

Laying snuggled up into their left side, right ear directly over heart. Much easier than laying at their right side, because the heart is more situated towards the left. Optimal af.

So whyyyyyyy

Horn on the right hand side of his head? The horn would poke someone if he tried to snuggle from the left side, seeing how it curves around/over his ear.

Bby can’t even have optimal cardiophile snuggles. Crying in the club right now.

Note: this isn’t a serious criticism, he’s perfect af. I was just thinking about scenarios for my writing and was like “Ah shit, he can’t do the best kind of cardiophile snuggles.”

[kk095]

Life and Death in the ER: Dr Lindsay

*Good evening everyone, I hope all is well. I greatly appreciate all the positive feedback on my last story Alexa's Arrhythmia! I'd like to try something a little different with the story you're about to read. Although it may not be everyone's cup of tea, I think it's a great opportunity for you guys to get to know some of our go-to characters a little better. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!*

Aside from medicine, Dr Lindsay’s passion in life is running. The cute, sporty tomboy doctor we all know and love was a college track star at the D1 college she attended once upon a time ago. Believe it or not, Lindsay had legitimate Olympic aspirations, and at one point in time, she was set to qualify for the United States women’s track team. But fate had other plans, which came in the form of a sudden, severe ACL and LCL tear in her left knee. Reconstructive surgery was performed and she of course recovered, but Lindsay definitely lost her X factor. Even though Lindsay could still run circles around 99% of humanity as a 33 year old with a bum knee, she lost that slight edge all those years ago, which is all it took for her Olympic hopes and dreams to go up in smoke. Sometimes Lindsay thought “what if?” in regards to her potential professional sports career, but at the same time, being an ER physician fulfilled her in a different way.

Lindsay truly embraced her role as a doctor and caretaker in the emergency department, always going the extra mile for her patients and thinking outside the box to try to save them. Time after time, Dr Lindsay found herself in the midst of life and death struggles in the trauma bay, always seeming to have her hands inside the chest of a beautiful woman. But right now, somewhere in an alternate reality, the role was reversed, with Lindsay being the beauty fighting for her life in the all too familiar emergency department.

The room Lindsay found herself in was quite a scene. A cacophony of sound hit anyone the instant they set foot in the room. Alarms and monitors were going off. Orders were being barked. Footsteps pitter-pattered around the room. The high pitched, electrical whirring of defibrillators charging echoed around the room from yet another unsuccessful shock. The tension was palpable.

All across the floor of the room, various items were strewn about. Wrappers from bits of medical equipment were tossed to the ground. Empty, used up blood transfusion and IV bags found themselves discarded. Lindsay’s bloody, tattered clothes also wound up on the light colored tile after a brief encounter with a set of shears. Small droplets of blood made a trail leading from the room’s entrance, all the way over to where the trauma room table was.

On the table, underneath the harsh, bright, fluorescent overhead light was the center of attention for the room’s occupants. Dr Sarah, Nurse Nancy, and Nurse Heather worked as a trio, each lady knowing their role inside out, backwards and forwards, from A to Z. Everyone knew their jobs at an expert level, but it was easier said than done for the emergency department’s triumvirate to maintain composure and impartiality, considering a friend and colleague was the poor soul requiring their lifesaving services this time.

Nurse Nancy, the 20+ year veteran of the ER who’s been there, done that, and seen it all stood at the head of the bed ambu bagging, sending much needed air into Dr Lindsay’s lungs. The stress, chaos, gore, and shock that came with being an ER nurse never fazed Nancy, especially after being exposed to such things for over two decades. But in this scenario, Nancy struggled. This wasn’t a stranger on the table tonight. Nurse Nancy couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of the ER’s go-to, unanimously loved leader being the one on the table this time. Heck, Nancy couldn’t even bring herself to look down at the table, not wanting to see her friend’s face, or the overall shape she was in. There was a knot in Nancy’s stomach, and her heart was racing. She hoped and prayed Dr Lindsay would pull through, but as each minute ticked by, each one faster than the last, Nancy’s hope was soon replaced by dread.

Heather, our emergency team’s dependable, hardworking nurse who regularly showed her moxie, stood off to the side of the table, tasked with keeping an eye on the heart monitors in order to note any changes, as well as pushing meds and setting up any equipment Dr Sarah may need. Heather’s eyes were trained on the heart monitors, which displayed a squiggly, sinuous, unorganized line. That squiggly line Heather watched signified something called ventricular fibrillation- a situation where a patient’s heart is twitching instead of actually beating, typically requiring a defibrillator shock in order to restore normal cardiac activity. Ventricular fibrillation, commonly known as v-fib amongst healthcare professionals, was something Heather has seen more times than she could count during her handful of years as a nurse. However, Heather found herself stunned when eyeing the heart monitor, coming to the stark realization that a familiar face was the one being resuscitated this time.

Dr Sarah, the cute, petite, nerdy redheaded doctor who, for all intents and purposes, was Dr Lindsay’s right hand man and most important ally in the battlegrounds of the trauma bay, stood right up against the table, doing anything and everything to bring her fellow ER doc back. Sarah had her gloved hands inside Lindsay’s chest, which was splayed open earlier in the struggle via a clamshell thoracotomy. The redheaded doctor’s hands were firmly wrapped around Dr Lindsay’s boggy, fibrillating heart, vigorously massaging away. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Sarah’s internal compressions. “come on Linds… come on….” Sarah uttered under her breath, trying to fight the overwhelming emotions that attempted to consume her. “You were just talking to us Linds… Come on…” continued Sarah, trying to will Lindsay back amongst the living.

Sarah composed herself for a moment. “Let’s shock her again. Recharge the paddles to 30, Heather.” Ordered Sarah, stepping up to the plate. Heather did what she had to do. She set the crash cart to 30 joules and hit the charge button. The high pitched, electrical whining of the internal paddles charging filled the room as Heather handed Sarah the large, spoon shaped devices. Sarah pulled her hands out of Lindsay’s chest cavity and grabbed ahold of the internal paddles. Dr Sarah lowered the internal paddles into the gaping chasm of an incision site, around Lindsay’s erratically fluttering heart.

While her friends worked urgently to save her, Lindsay laid on the table, stripped completely nude, her toned, athletic body on full display in a room full of familiar faces, the violating nature of that fact going to the wayside due to the dire essence of the situation. Lindsay’s sandy, light brown hair was tied back in a messy bun or ponytail of sorts, being held in place with a black headband. The doctor’s icy, sky blue eyes remained open, her pupils the size of dimes, staring up above with a full blown death stare etched onto her face. She was intubated, with the ET tube being secured by a blue tube holder around the area of her mouth and lips. IV lines stuck out of both her arms. Her torso was littered with EKG electrodes and wires. A chest tube stuck out the left side of Lindsay’s ribs, redirecting blood and trapped air outwards. The rest of her upper torso, and belly to a lesser degree, were soaked with a combination of both blood and betadine. However, Lindsay’s chest was the main sight of shock and awe. Her chest had a large, crude, gash just below the nipple line, extending the entirety of her chest horizontally. Not only was there a massive gash, her sternum was sawed in half, and her chest was splayed open via a clamshell thoracotomy. A metal rib retractor sat dead center in her chest, keeping everything open. A large, metal vascular clamp stuck up and out of the incision site. Sarah could also be seen holding the internal defibrillator paddles in place in anticipation of a shock.

“Paddles charged. Everyone… CLEAR!” Dr Sarah called out, everyone else stepping back from the table. THWACK. The shock was delivered. “mmmph…” Lindsay moaned softly, her torso twitching sharply in response to Sarah’s shock. The trio paused after the shock. The monitors beeped fast and loud, everyone’s eyes looking over to see if there was a change. “Come on… she’s still in v-fib. I’m going again at 30. Everyone…. CLEAR!” shouted Dr Sarah, immediately shocking Lindsay again. Lindsay’s shoulders shrugged forward and her arms shivered, a wet thump being heard. Like before, Dr Lindsay’s heartbeat was unable to be restored. Sarah decided to up the ante, shocking her friend and coworker at 40 joules during the next go around. “MMMM!” Lindsay moaned louder, as if she could feel the stronger intensity of the shock. Again, v-fib persisted. “I’m going again at 40! Everyone…CLEAR!” Barked Sarah, determined to keep going. The next shock caused Lindsay’s toes to scrunch up hard at the far end of the table, showing off the bright white nail polish on her toes, along with the wavy, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 11 feet she was always so self conscious of.

Sarah wasn’t giving up, and neither was v-fib, so the fight was on. “Going again at 40! Everyone… CLEAR!!!” Sarah passionately yelled out, shocking Lindsay once more. Lindsay’s torso shot up and plopped back down hard all within the span of a second. The monitors kept alarming, but by that point, the trio tuned out the noise of the monitors, considering they were well aware there was a major problem. In the seconds after that shock, Lindsay’s heart fluttered and danced weakly for a moment, before coming to a sudden, complete stop. The heart monitors flatlined, and Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless inside her cracked open chest. Lindsay’s beautiful blue eyes stayed wide open, staring up above, almost as if she was watching her friends determine their next move.

The flatline on the monitors was an absolute gut punch for everyone. Sarah stood there holding the internal paddles, deep in rumination about her next move. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy shined a pen light into Lindsay’s eyes. Lindsay’s pupils were the size of dimes, completely blown, not reacting to the pen light in the slightest. “oh… poor baby…” Nancy uttered, placing the pen light back in her breast pocket. “Pupils fixed and dilated.” Nancy continued, informing everyone, shaking her head. Heather looked over at the heart monitor. “Asystole on the monitors, down 37 minutes.” Added Heather. There was a collective pause after Heather’s words. Nancy didn’t say anything, but she went ahead and detached the ambu bag from the ET tube, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. The two nurses looked over at Sarah, knowing they’ve done all they could for their friend, but needed Sarah to make the final call.

Dr Sarah stood there shell shocked. Sure, Sarah has lost patients before- any ER doctor has. But this was different. This was a coworker. A colleague. A leader. Someone she looked up to. But most importantly, this was a friend. Sarah felt morally and emotionally obligated to continue resuscitation efforts. How could she just give up on Lindsay? At the same time, Dr Sarah viewed the situation clinically and logically. She knew that all possible options were exhausted. An asystolic patient with a downtime of 37 minutes and blown pupils was too far gone for additional interventions. With all this in mind, Sarah snapped back to reality, eyeing each member of the trauma team. Dr Sarah didn’t say a word to any of them. Finally, her eyes looked over at the clock that sat on the back left wall of the room. Sarah gently placed the internal paddles back down on the crash cart, then peeled her blood soaked, latex gloves off, her heart racing, eventually making the dreaded announcement. “Time of death, 8:08pm…” Sarah’s voice wobbling, on the verge of tears.

Nobody said a word, but everyone knew exactly what to do next. Nurse Nancy switched off the flatlined monitors, silencing the once noisy, hectic room. Heather disconnected the EKG electrodes and removed the IVs from each of Dr Lindsay’s arms. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the open thoracotomy site, obscuring Lindsay’s inert, motionless heart from view. A toe tag was then filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled against the fine, thin, but prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of Lindsay’s feet. Lastly, a cover was placed over Lindsay, concealing the hauntingly beautiful gaze forever etched onto her face. Unfortunately for Lindsay, a cruel twist of fate- and perhaps irony resulted in her dying in the very place she spent so much of her time. In this alternate reality, Dr Lindsay was now the hottie who laid toe tagged and under a sheet in the emergency department.

[beatinginavoid]

From the Deep

Every part of this room was custom built for one purpose. It was a purpose that many had believed would go unfulfilled. Yet here and now, the room was in use. The lights were dim, and reflected lights danced over the ceiling and some of the walls in mesmerising patterns, dancing and flickering endlessly.

The alluring light dance came from the ripples of the water that filled a massive tank. It took up the full length of one wall, a good thirty feet minimum. It was not quite fifteen feet tall, and contained no foliage or ornamentation, empty but for the water and one other thing.

A figure glided through the water. Sleek and swift, every motion it made caused more ripples on the surface.

The upper half of the figure resembled a young male human, while the lower half was that of a scaly tail with fins. A merman. A legend proven real.

He was a sight to behold.

He had been caught on the edges of the deep sea and seemed to live there. His body certainly suited that mostly unexplored area of the ocean, and what an intriguing body it was.

The merman’s entire body, from his short, wispy hair, to the very tips of his tail fin, was completely transparent. No muscles were visible, nor was there much of a skeletal figure to be seen beyond sharp teeth and a spine. Interestingly enough, no blood vessels could be seen, but every single internal organ, including the muscle that served as the heart, was completely on display.

Multiple cameras were focused on the tank, recording every movement, internal and external. This was groundbreaking new territory, history being made, and no one wanted to mess it up or miss a thing.

They only had one merman so they had to be incredibly careful.

There were thin, barely visible lines following the curves of what you assume are the ribs. The gills? The lungs resembled biology closer to a stingray or a shark, leaving more immediate space around the heart unlike a human, whose left lung hugged the muscle and partially hid it from sight. This was incredibly helpful for an unobstructed view of the epicentre of the cardiovascular system, especially for the excited medical staff that had access to this magnificent specimen.

Standing in front of the tank, the merman’s interest is caught right away and he lunges toward you. He smacks heavily into the glass, his shiny black eyes observing you unblinkingly, his head tilted in confusion as his hands lay flat against the tank wall. He floats to a stop upright, mimicking your posture.

The atria squeeze and his heart swells minutely before the ventricles twist a little and contract. The process repeats again and again, the pumping action fast and relentless. Throbthrobthrobthrobthrob. It’s so hard to look elsewhere because the motion is so hypnotic.

His heart appears to resemble a human’s so much, you can’t help but wonder if it sounds similar as well. A stethoscope was not an option, but there had to be a way.

Time slips by and you notice the rapid pace of his heart has slowed down significantly. Throb…throb…throb…throb…throb. You feel as if your own heart is trying to match it. Does his pulsing organ feel stronger than your own nestled in your chest?

Throb…throb…throb…throb-ob…throb…throb…

Was that a skip? Fascinating to witness!

Was it normal? Harmless? Indicative of a problem?

You scurry off to find help with your stethoscope problem, returning an hour later with a special microphone designed for underwater use. Such devices are used to record the sounds of dolphins and whales, and you hope it will be enough to pick up the merman’s heartbeat, especially if it ends up against his chest.

There’s a metal staircase at the far end of the tank and you ascend it. Leaning over and holding the microphone, the cord wrapped around a pole, above the water carefully, you lower it bit by bit. The microphone is attached to a box with a waveform metre and a speaker. It crackles and gurgles in a muted manner while it moves, the sound loudly reverberating around the mostly empty room.

You wedge the pole into place and resume your former spot before the tank. The microphone dangles in the water just above your eye line and your gaze quickly hones back in on the merman’s chest. The organic pump was still dutifully performing its sacred role, filling with blood and ejecting it to circulate around the rest of his body.

The mer himself gives you a cursory glance before hesitantly reaching out to the invader in his space. Fingers tipped with claws poke at it. Thuds ring out from the speaker and you smile.

He drifts closer to it, his face getting quite close. Fangs flash and the microphone screeches and groans as it is bitten. The mer lets it go quickly, jaw working open and closed a few times. It seems the taste, and maybe the texture, is not to his liking. A see-through hand grasps the microphone with surprising gentleness, creating a ruckus of awful, distorted noise.

Dexterous looking fingers inch their way up the microphone. A slender wrist follows, then a forearm and elbow. He continues to cautiously follow the cord higher and higher, and you bounce on your heels in eager anticipation as his chest finally draws level with the microphone.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

There it is. What you’ve been waiting for.

The rhythm, the rate, the snap of valves, the distinct S1 and S2 sounds that make up the oh so familiar lub-dub. There is no way you would ever be able to distinguish this from a human’s regular heart sounds. This could be a major evolutionary find!

The merman freezes in place, his head tilting around. There were no visible ears but he was clearly listening to something. Could he hear the speaker projecting his sounds of life? After a few seconds he sucks in a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, and lets it out.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

His eyes are wide and he seemed as enthralled by the sound as you are. Several beats had visibly and audibly skipped and it had been an amazingly delightful experience for you. The acceleration and deceleration of that pulsing muscle was something that could keep your attention for hours.

Or until the call of nature became too much to ignore.

Your hand presses against your chest, your own heart meeting it with faint pushes as if determined to be a part of things.

Throbthrobthrobthrobthrobthrobthrob-

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

The fast pace of your heart feels weird as the merman’s restful beats fill the room. The two disparate rhythms seem to work together against all odds.

Human and mer stay in place, living in the moment.

-----

My first proper post on here and my first ever piece of cardiophile writing! 🫀🫀🫀 I hope you like it! I may make this mer an OC and play with him more...

pssst: will trade writing for art/anims

[cardiolove]

A shock

Max and Chris had known eachother for a little while, enough for max to discover the fact that Chris could do some weird stuff on command. Those said things included being able to raise his heart rate exponentially and heat his body up to a fever.

What they also had figured out about eachother is that they're both cardiophiles.

Max, short for maxine, was about 5'4, a bit on the curvier side and had blue hair. She also had an interest in medicine apart from cardiophilia.

Chris was about 5'9, tanner skinned and his hair was about as long as Max's but it was black. He was neither skinny to the point of bone but not obese either, somewhere along skinny fat.

They had planned a meeting at Max's house, not for their usual coffee and chit chat, but for a little medical fun. Truth is, they found eachother attractive and were close enough in age so that it wouldn't be weird. They had loosely made up a scenario they would role-play to and how it would eventually end, at least that's what Chris thought. What he didn't know was that Maxine had prepared a surprise for him.

Maxine sat in her kitchen, sipping a coffee and excitedly awaiting the doorbell. She was wearing scrubs, the type that doctors wear while working in the emergency room, and a Littman stethoscope draped around her neck.

After about 15 minutes and half a coffee later, the long awaited ring sounded and Max shot out of her chair like she had been electrocuted, spilling a bit of her coffee on the table.

At the door stood Chris, slightly winded from the stairs he had to walk up. He was wearing a loose black tank top and a pair of black sweatpants. His hands were carrying a skateboard and his hair was lightly stuck to his forehead as the heat of outside had caused him to sweat a bit.

"Hii!! Come on in" she excitedly says, jittery from the coffee and the thought of finally being able to enact a long lasting fantasy of hers.

"Hey, sorry for being late I had to pick something up" he says as he sets his skateboard down next to the door. He takes off his sneakers and then pulls out a small bag with 2 brightly coloured candies. "Had to pick these up from my friend Molly" he continues with a wink.

"Oh" she says, a smirk growing on her face as she sees his actions. "Do you want something to drink? A coffee or something?" She offers as Chris puts the bag back into his pocket.

"No coffee, wouldn't want my heart to actually explode now. Just some water for those 2" he said, chuckling. As she went to fetch the two of them some glasses of water, he oriented himself to the nearest mirror, angled his head up, and admired how his pulse was visibly beating already, excitement driving his naturally elevated heart rate even higher.

"Should we take these now or later?" Maxine asks, coming back with two glasses of water. She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was eyeing him, she traced her eyes up and down his arms, torso, legs, neck, shamelessly.

"Now's the best time, you have to wait a few minutes for them to take effect" he said, passing her a piece, grabbing a glass and swallowing the candy piece. "You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable" he reassures Maxine, seeing her looking intensely at the candy. She tells him it's fine and immediately swallows it, this being one of the last few times she's going to do what he tells her.

"Go ahead and get comfortable in the other room, the doctor will be with you shortly" Maxine tells, tearing a hard inhale from Chris as he nods and heads off to the bedroom. When the brunette enters the room his eyes glisten when he sees and ekg machine and a defibrillator, even if they won't truly be used he could still already feel himself stiffening and his heart thud against his sternum harder.

As he sits on the bed and takes a few breaths, their scenario not starting with full on panic level tachycardia, the door opens and Maxine walks in, her stethoscope swaying around her neck.

"Hello Mr. Gutierrez, I see here that you've been having some trouble breathing, is that correct?" She said, looking at a chart. Chris quickly got into character and started breathing heavier.

"Yes, it's been happening for a few days so I figured I should come here and get it checked" he said, resting a hand on top of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

She extended her hand resting two fingers upon his carotid to feel his quickening pulse before moving behind him. "Lift your shirt up, i'm going to listen to your lungs, the stethoscope might be a bit cold" she orders him.

He reaches behind him and pulls the back of his shirt up. He fakes a faint wheeze when asked to breathe deeply, as they had talked prior.

"You have slight abnormalities in your respiratory sounds and your pulse is a bit fast for just resting, I will have to proceed to further investigations." She says, writing in his chart.

"My... chest h-hurts" he chokes, using his abilities he raises his heart rate into tachycardia, up in the high 140's as his chest starts heaving.

"Lay on the bed i need to listen" She quickly says but not before he grabs her palm and presses it to his chest to feel his heart fluttering. After he lays down she takes off his tank top, gaining better access to his heart while also running her hands up and down his body.

"He-help me" Chris pleads, enjoying the feeling of his heart slamming against his sternum, the Molly they took earlier starting to kick in. Max quickly puts her stethoscope against his chest and listens to his heart rate soar over the 150's, his heart thudding almost three times every second. Maxine listens closely, pressing her hand against his chest. Watching as her hand is moving to the rapid staccato of his heart, he throws a skip... a few seconds later another one. The mauve headed doctor is impressed by Chris' control over his heart. They had a safe word if anything went wrong so they knew to stop.

Thud thud thud thud thud-DUN

"Wow..."she whispered unconsciously, which only made Chris more turned on and made his heart gain even more speed. His dick was now almost fully erect, yet they were only at the halfway mark of their scenario. His mind was starting to numb and he basked in the feeling. After she finished listening, she started putting the ekg leads on him. Quickly, the room filled with rapid tempo beeping with the monitor showing irregularities here and there.

"I- I can't breathe" he said, this sentence being a signal for the next part of their scenario. After Chris said the key words, he rolled his eyes to the back of his head and he started shaking, no... not shaking, seizing. Maxine pressed a button on the ekg machine and the rhythm changed to a preset one she had set. The ekg line becoming erratic as he keeps seizing.

"I need some help here!" She said to the empty room. Maxine now secretly turned on the defibrillator, as the next step was flatline and fibrillation. What Chris didn't know is that the defibrillator was real and could actually administer shocks. Just as she set the voltage on the defibrillator Chris stopped seizing.

She pressed another button on the ekg that showed Chris was in ventricular fibrillation. "He's fibbing, charge the defibrillator at 150" she said, putting gel on the defib paddles. Not shocking him quite yet, just miming it like they had planned. He pushed his chest up against the paddles and then back down when she pressed them.

"Shit, flatline" she verbalizes, only exciting Chris more, his erection now uncomfortable against his boxers. Maxine placed the stethoscope against his heart, hearing it thrash around his chest. His heart was now visible on the left side of his chest, hard to notice but there. His whole body was throbbing in time with his thrumming pulse.

"Starting compressions" she announces, lightly pressing on his chest, not deep enough to cause true damage like real compressions would, but enough to feel amazing for both him and her, especially him. She could feel his pump battering at her palm. She finished a set of thirty and went to give him rescue breathes which he gladly took but also turned into kissing. Hungry kisses, so hungry.

"I need a better angle" she says seductively. Saying that she moves from his lateral and climbs on the bed, straddles his lap right on top of his metal grade erection and resumes compressions. His body Is burning and his heat is radiant. She finishes the second round of compressions and in between rescue breaths "come on" she pleads.

"Fibrillation again, charge to 200" this time, she presses the button to charge, the defibrillator set at 50 joules, enough to affect him but not kill him.

"CLEAR!" She announces, stops touching him, and shocks him. He shoots up, caught in an adrenaline high, he presses his hand to his heart and laughs.

"WOOO THAT FEELS INCREDIBLE" He shouts. Chris grabs the stethoscope and puts it in his own ears and presses it to his chest. With a mesmerized look, he hands the earpieces to Max. As she puts them in her ears he grabs her hand and puts it on his chest.

"Oh my God... are you okay" she says, almost drooling. She chuckles at the question she just asked, Chris' heart is beating around 200 times every single minute, that's more than 3 times per second. There's moments where he slips into atrial fibrillation and skips back to pulse. As incredible as this sounds to Maxine, the better it feels to Chris.

"Oh... it feels so good" the tanner says, grabbing Maxine and starting a make-our session with her, and Oh was it heated, in mere seconds they were creating friction and were moaning messes. Chris took off the top of Max's scrubs only to find nothing underneath but hot flushed skin. With the steth still on his chest, Maxine moves down from his lips and onto his neck where she sucks and bites like a vampire, leaving marks all over Chris' neck, she especially pays attention to his distended carotid, tracing it with her tongue before attacking it, feeling his pulse incredibly fast against her mouth.

Chris grabbed onto Max's hair and started bucking his hips forward, his body flooding with pleasure. The pain of her teeth, the thudding in his chest, the pressure on his dick. It was driving him feral.

"Your turn now" Chris said.

Shall be continued? Tell me what you guys think because this has been gathering dust in my drafts for almost a year. Also, not proofread so tell me if it's incoherent.

[severedfromthesource]

Bite Back

Pt 1/3

Original concept from @delicious-beats. Contains F resus, M rescuer, LUCAS thumper, automated CPR, mouth to intubation tube, depictions of gore, trying to resuscitate a zombie

Blackened veins ran in a spiderweb from the holes in Luffy’s shoulder. She shouldn’t have even been out, Elijah had told her again and again, the fucking news had told her, the trucks with megaphones and military personnel blaring up and down her street for the past ten hours had told her. But she needed to know he was okay. She was always trying to look out for him. He’d never hated her selflessness more than right now. 

Her skin was bloodless, her usual dark brown hue sapped until she was completely ashen, the circular row of splotchy red teeth marks and black fissures of veins the only real color left to her body. Her heart was beating arrhythmic on the monitors as the ambulance tried to find a path forward through the streets choked with people fleeing. Her head rolled back on her neck and she looked up with bleary eyes towards him. 

“Eli,” she choked out, her throat tight to the point of almost closing up. 

They’d dealt with bite victims all day. They’d lost all of them, and then had to cut it and run when the old woman or the jogger or, worst, the fucking ten year old who had been playing soccer, reared back up and tried to take a bite out of them. Elijah cradled her head, his mind racing. The symptoms presented differently with everyone they’d encountered. One spewed blood, one just bottomed out and died, but so far complete cardiac arrest had occurred within the first twenty minutes of contact. His eyes darted to his watch. It had been fifteen since she’d screamed over the phone and he had raced to come find her.

He pressed a square of gauze against the wound, his breath shaking. “Okay,” he said, “Okay, Lu? I need you to look at me, focus on me, hey-“ He held her face with one hand and snapped his fingers near her ear with the other. It lolled like a doll with loose joints. “We’ve got a couple minutes before… b-before the first real symptoms kick in, the really bad ones. But I’m gonna get you to the hospital, alright?” He added in an aside to his partner in the front, “How long you think until we get there?” 

“Fuck man,” Jonas spat, “Every street is clogged, the military is setting up choke points on every major road. They’re not gonna let us even through if she’s infected.” 

“I didn’t fucking ask about the stupid fucking military, I asked how long until we get there,” Elijah replied in a tone that warned the other man he would not be accepting any other outcome but Luffy making it to the front doors of Saint Edward’s.

“Twenty minutes, if I can find a decent backstreet. Probably forty if I can’t.”

He nearly sobbed. The air left his body in a rush with a stricken noise he couldn’t hold back. Luffy’s hand reached out and grabbed at his shirt. 

“Eli,” she sputtered again, but there were tears in her voice this time. “I don’t … I d-don’t wanna die…”

Twenty minutes. Probably over that, but he couldn’t think about that. His eyes snapped to his watch again. Three minutes left. He could keep her heart going. If she wasn’t really dead then she couldn’t be undead. He would keep her alive, and they would cure her, and she would live. There was no other option. Not for him.

Spittle dried white at the corner of her lips as he stared down into her face, those lips he had kissed until they were swollen now trembling and pale. He smoothed hair back from her forehead and leaned in close. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he promised in a low voice, cupping her head with both hands. “You’re gonna be alright. You trust me?” She nodded, even as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and slid into the pillow beneath her. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We take care of each other, right? It’s what we do.” 

Two minutes. Elijah kissed her sweaty forehead and drew back, collecting everything he’d need for an arrest as the ambulance swayed and bounced over uneven terrain. He snatched out epinephrine, pulled out the AED, strapped her to the gurney, all with an efficiency he didn’t even know he was capable of. Already her heart was beginning to skip, throwing out PVCs on the monitor as her jagged heart rate either spiked above the line or dipped far below it. He eyed the restraints they had on hand, the brace boards for trauma victims and cuffs meant for psych patients. As he drew the LUCAS out, he tested the straps on the sides of the large, crescent moon shaped piece of equipment. There was no telling if they’d hold if she tried to take a swipe at him, but maybe. 

Twenty seconds. Elijah gripped the neckline of Luffy’s shirt and tore it down the middle, sweat beginning to drip down the back of his neck and back. She was hardly moving, her bare chest glistening with sweat. Her nipples had lost their color too, and her breasts swayed jerkily with every short, halting breath she managed in. Her eyes were drooping closed. Her jaw twitched open a little and slackened back as she took one more shallow sip of air. Then it left her lungs in a quiet sigh as her chest deflated for the final time. There was one more quick flutter on the monitors, her heart clawing for the last few quivering beats it could manage. Then it stopped. 

Elijah clamped down on the welling nausea to tap the timer on his digital watch. Jonas cursed up front as the EKG hummed a flatline. Wasting no time, he slid the curved backboard under her limp body, lifting the LUCAS and clicking it into place above her. The thing settled between her breasts, the flexible rubber plunger flush against her sternum. One of her arms hung limp off the side of the gurney and he took it by the wrist, fixing it in the straps on one side of the machine, then the other. Her fingers curled against the motor case. Elijah jabbed at the controls and turned it on. 

The machine jabbed the plunger down into her chest with all the force of a trained EMT. It cratered into her heart, the force displacing through the rest of her body so her belly rolled out, her shoulders rippling with the force of a robot that didn’t care if it felt her ribs pulp under its hands. It had never held her. It had never known the warmth of her. The thing pistoned and made a noise far too loud for the cramped space. Zip, zip, zip, zip, zip.

Luffy’s eyes were half mast and empty, lips parted. Elijah checked the timer. A little over a minute had passed since the start of the arrest. Maybe there was still time for intubation. He snatched the laryngoscope and tilted her head back by the jaw, sliding the metal blade past her bloodless lips and over her tongue. The curved blade made an easy track down her throat, bulging it slightly as he maneuvered an intubation tube down the tunnel of her trachea. He slid it home with one hand, the other resting at the pulse point in her neck to feel the blood being forced to circulate. He knew he couldn’t look at her face. He had to focus on her tongue, her mouth, her teeth, the hard bone of her jaw under his fingers. If he looked at her face, he would lose any shred of sanity he had left. But his eyes slid anyway. They moved down to her eyes- only they weren’t half lidded anymore. 

They bore into him, the pupils grey discs in the center of her dark eyes. The whites of her eyes were shot through with red veins. Her jaw clicked as it moved around the intubation tube, her lips peeling back, exposing her teeth.

“Fuck!” Elijah exclaimed and jerked back, his back hitting the wall of the ambulance. 

“What, what?” Jonas shouted from the front seat.

Luffy’s body moved, her arms tugging at the restraints, her legs shifting underneath her. They curled up and kicked out, but the belts around her waist held her down. Her back arched against the LUCAS even as it slammed down against her sternum. Elijah heard something shift sickeningly under the skin. A guttural growl rose up from the tube and she thrashed, shaking her head, rolling back as her teeth gnashed against the tube poking from her mouth. She gargled and sputtered and he realized with a jolt that she was tearing up her throat with her bucking and shaking. 

“Luffy,” he breathed. “Lu… Lu, stop, stop it-“ He lurched forward, grabbing her jaw, but she snapped her head to the side and clicked her teeth within a hairs breadth of his hand. "Fuck, fuck!"

"Eli! What the hell-"

"Focus on the road!" As he snapped this at Jonas, Luffy burbled a mouthful of blood from around the tube in her throat. He managed to throw his arms in front of his face just in time before it might have splattered in his eyes or mouth. The last thing poor Jonas needed was another flesh crazed cannibal in his ambulance. Elijah had already decided he was saving the woman he loved, and he was going to keep that promise; he just needed to stay warm and breathing to do it.

He lunged for her again, clapping his hands on both sides of her head, just out of reach over her bared teeth. "This is definitely not how you're supposed to intubate someone," he panted, already out of breath, "But I know very well you're not breathing for yourself right now." As if in agreement, Luffy gurgled with a throat full of blood, already darkened by the virus until it was almost black. He wrapped his lips around the opening of the tube and forced a breath into it. Might as well, things definitely couldn't get any worse. His eyes flicked to her chest as the LUCAS did its thing, bowing her ribs in against her spine with ruthless efficacy, and blew another breath into her oxygen starved lungs, even as she fought against it. Six minutes in arrest.

Her arms strained against the bindings and he heard the velcro straps start to go, but she was just mindless and angry enough she didn't seem to understand what was keeping her stuck. She twisted her wrists and struggled until the skin was bruised and raw, but the straps held. They'd hold until they couldn't anymore. He considered a neck brace to try and hold her still enough to attach an ambu bag and actually intube her properly, but if he lessened his hold on her for even a moment, she'd snap and flounder, teeth chomping as they lunged for his flesh. The LUCAS had to be good enough. It was all he had. He stood there, bowed over her, filling her lungs. Each breath forced her chest to rise before it was again crushed under the LUCAS as it beat her heart over and over again. Every time he gave her oxygen, she made a wretched wheezing noise and used the breath as fuel to snarl wordlessly at him. Her legs kicked out, banging against the walls of the truck, scattering supplies tucked into corners. Her body tried to roll up and fight the machine as it relentlessly battered her dead heart.

"Please, stay still, Lu." He stroked his thumb against her cheek, trying to suppress the sobs he felt building behind his eyes. Every time the LUCAS pounded against her sternum, it forced what little air was left in her lungs out, often in a grunt or a a hollow rasp in the back of her poor, abused throat. “I got you, baby. I’m not giving up, not until I get you back.”

She snarled again, but the thumper kept cutting into her displeased noises. “Haaar-huk, graa-ack, huk-“

Ten minutes in arrest. Elijah looped his arm under her chin, pinning her in his bicep to keep her head still, and punched the pause button on the LUCAS. He slipped two fingers under his headlock to feel for her pulse, but the monitor returned to a flatline the moment the automatic compressions stopped. She was still dead even as she squirmed under the restraints.

“Come on, fucks sake, Lu. Give me something,” he muttered, slapping the resume button to once more fill the ambulance with the rhythmic zip, zip, zip noise. Her breasts bounced with the force, her hardened nipples drawing lines back and forth in the air. He breathed once more into the intubation tube. The machine forced the breath back out as soon as he’d given it. She didn’t stop her struggles, trying to fight the thing assaulting her motionless heart. He had to wonder if she felt it pushing stale blood through the chambers and ventricles. He could only imagine how much it must hurt to be conscious during CPR. Her ribcage had probably already been rendered into pudding by now. He could see the bruise where the plunger knocked again and again into her. “I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering.

Thirteen minutes in arrest.

He didn’t know how much more he could take. Seeing Luffy’s face contorted, empty even as it moved and made noise, was starting to break Elijah. Or at the very least break some vital piece of him. He ran his thumbs over her temples as tears silently slipped down the bridge of his nose and patted wetly on her face. She didn’t even flinch. There was nothing left of her in those diseased eyes. He held her still enough in another headlock to check her pupil reactivity, but they were fixed and blown wide with dilation. He didn’t know if that meant the virus was doing its job, or if she was beyond saving. Luffy rattled the gurney as she kicked again, thrashing her body as much as she could while being pinned down by the machine punching into her sternum over and over. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes and absolutely zero electrical activity: her heart hadn’t even quivered. It simply lay silent and still while the rest of her kept moving.

Elijah sank into a crouch, holding onto the edge of her bed to keep himself from collapsing utterly. He heard Jonas radioing into the hospital, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the pitiful gasps and grunts Luffy made as the thumper pinned her beneath it. “Stay still, please God just stay still,” he begged her and felt tears spilling over. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. All he could do was sit there and shake with silent sobs. He couldn’t even focus enough to breathe for her. “Baby,” he rasped in a hoarse whisper, “Please… Jesus Christ, please…. Come back…”

“Eli,” Jonas called again for what had been the third time, but was the first time Elijah had heard him. “They say they’ve got some kind of antidote, they’ve tried it on a few of the infected.”

Elijah wiped tears and snot off in his upper arm. “Any results?” he asked, warbling. The greater part of him wanted to tell Jonas not to bother, that it was too late. That she was gone. The most an antidote would do would maybe put her down peacefully so she could rest easy. But there was that little kernel, that one errant thought that said maybe, maybe she could come back.

“A couple people have come back. Not totally, they think it might be brain damage from the time they spent without circulation. But they stop trying to rip people’s faces off.”

They’d been her life support since the moment she turned. Her heart had barely even been given a chance to stop in her chest. The LUCAS had good rates of spontaneous return of circulation; if anyone could come back, Luffy had been given the best chance.

“They know we’re coming?”

“They’re gonna meet us the second we pull in.”

He stared down into the silver discs of her eyes. She was still in there, somewhere. She had to be. “Hold on, Lu. I’m gonna get you back.”

[waywardserpent176389053]

Natsuki's Doki Doki Panic Chapter Two

Here is the second chapter, this time with editing provided by the talented @nursepunkdreams.

Circling Darkness

At first, Natsuki could only feel the throbbing of her heart. It was hummingbird fast, uncountable, and as tentative as the slight beat of their wings.

And it hurt. God, did it hurt. As though someone had sunk several needles into her chest and her heart was being forced to contract around them.

But that wasn’t quite right. Her other senses trickled in one after another. More pain. The soft hiss of compressed air; something strapped to her face, and a scattering of smaller somethings attached to her chest. A shrill, rapid beeping…

She winced. She was in motion, for sure—whoever was driving had hit some rough road. She tensed and tried to focus on something else.

Natsuki finally opened her eyes. She recognized the interior of an ambulance right away and tried to take it all in. An intravenous line snaked into her arm, and a dozen EKG electrodes covered her naked chest. A green mask fitted around her face fogged with her every breath.

Her vision wouldn’t quite focus, no matter how much she willed it to, and her thoughts didn’t fare much better. The whats, the whys, the hows of everything—it all escaped her.

“Hey there.” The paramedic noticed her wandering eyes. He gently touched the side of her face to center her gaze on him. “You just rest, okay? You’ve been through a lot. We’ve got you.”

She wanted to demand some answers, but was distracted by someone touching her shoulder. It looked like…

“It’s okay. I’m here too,” Monika reassured her in a soft tone. She watched worriedly as the other paramedic inched his stethoscope around her chest. “You fainted in the club room… so we’re just going to the hospital for a checkup. That’s all.” She placed her hand in Natsuki’s.

The paramedic let out a short sigh when he finished his examination and replaced the instrument around his neck.

“Still tachy. ETA?” He called out to the front.

“A minute, if that.”

Natsuki allowed herself to take some relief in that. The hospital would fix everything, right?

“Ah—” Her breath caught with a particularly painful spasm of her heart. The patient monitor sounded off with a new alarm as the spasms continued, and her hopes began to wane.

“She’s throwing some strong PVCs,” the paramedic said. He looked concerned scanning the monitor’s readout. “Hanging out around 180—pulse ox is dropping…”

Natsuki didn’t understand what the words meant. She looked to Monika for context and found her looking down at her, tense with worry—even more so than before.

That couldn’t be good.

“We’re here,” Monika gently relayed the information to her with a hand on her face. “I’ll be close by, okay…?”

She barely registered what she had said. There was a bit of jostling, some fussing by some unseen hands and the voices attached to them; the panel lights flashing overhead… but all she could focus on was her heart, beating out of control. It skipped and stuttered along in double-time, threatening to give out…

Then she came to a stop. She thought she glimpsed a sign that said ‘Cardiac Care Unit’, but she didn’t have time to think about it further. Suddenly her body was aloft, and then manhandled into position on a new bed. On every side, people were a blur of activity and an indiscernible torrent of medical jargon she couldn't hope to understand.

“Hi there Natsuki, are you with us?” One of her attendants spoke loudly and clearly, but still with a reassuring lilt. She waved her hand in front of her face. “There you are. You’re at the hospital, okay? Your heartbeat is very irregular, and we need to give it a little jolt to get it back to normal…”

She continued talking, explaining, but the words faded. On her opposite side, another medic was readying a defibrillator. She’d seen them, in movies, of course—but never in real life. The heavy capacitors were placed on her chest: one under her collarbone and the other under her breast. The team stepped back, and the man holding the paddles shot her a sympathetic look.

The shock was sharp and sudden, so much so that she hardly grasped that it had happened at all. She gasped, the trace read flat, and she became hyper aware of her heart. For a second, she was able to trace every part of her rebellious cardiac organ. Every blood vessel, valve, nerve, all of it; as though she could view it in a three-dimension space…

Then the muscle contracted. Once more, blood rushed to the rest of her body. She started to hyperventilate. The sensation—the awareness—was overwhelming. The monitor continued to broadcast a rhythm that was far too rapid.

“No change—still v-tach…”

She braced for the worst. The twin capacitors settled onto her chest once more.

The second shock struck her. The muscles of her back tightened and thrust her body against the defibrillator paddles, as if trying to buck them off. Her heart clenched like a fist, the electricity forcing a contraction. She slumped back onto the bed and her heart relaxed, still for a moment, then one beat… another…

No third beat. Natsuki’s heart, tired from all it had been through, merely twitched and spasmed.

She felt like she was sinking. The action around her grew more frantic—one medic rushed forward to compress her chest, another grabbed a bag-valve mask as her breath fled her lungs in a drawn out wheeze.

Her vision frayed into darkness at its edges. She feared the worst, but…

She could still see.

A medic frantically worked her chest, caving her ribs with every shove. Another tore off her mask and replaced it with the bag valve. She squeezed the bulb fast and steady, raising her chest with each repetition. It brought an ache in her ribs to her attention, and she found herself with the wherewithal to wonder if it was broken. Having barely finished her thought, she also noticed the pain of her ordeal was rapidly subsiding.

This is so embarrassing… Natsuki thought when her head was a little clearer. She hadn’t bared her chest for anyone in recent memory, but now a whole half dozen—or more—got to behold her pathetic body. She could feel her small breasts jiggling with each thrust, and going by what parts of her body felt clothed… she was only wearing her pink panties and white socks.

Natsuki thought she might expire fully right then and there.

She was reminded of the gravity of her situation then. She was fucking dying.

No… no! Not like this! She couldn’t reconcile with it. Her life had been utterly terrible for so long—it was only just getting good. She had a nice place to live! A crush on a cute girl! And she most certainly did not deserve to die from a sudden heart attack. She still needed to graduate, start a bakery… have sex at least once—not put into a casket at the ripe old age of fucking eighteen.

The compressions stopped, and the defibrillator was placed against her once more.

Please work, Natsuki begged. The current rippled through her and arched her back. Her jaw clenched, and for a second, all she saw was light. It rapidly gave way to darkness.

The void lingered just long enough to make her think this might be it. But she realized—she could still think, and then, she heard the noises around her. They were muffled, as though coming from the next room over, but enough for her to cling to for dear life. There was an alarm—shrill, persistent; a backdrop against the desperate voices of the team working her code.

She became aware of the compressions resuming next—suddenly acutely aware of her ribs being forced down; of her sternum pushing into her heart. The weight moved the arrested muscle down, stopped only by her spine; her ribs growing more pliable and fragile by the second. Beneath her chest wall, the organ was squeezed like a rubber ball; the valves within forced open as the blood was ejected. She could feel it—the blood pushed through the hungry arteries… and could discern, somehow, that it wasn’t nearly as effective as her heart beating normally. Between each thrust, her heart would swell as the blood rushed back.

All of this, in less than a second. But time dilated beyond all meaning now. The artificial rhythm continued at pace, and Natsuki felt the cadence with exacting clarity. Her heart continued to twitch. It reminded her of a plate of gelatin being shaken.

It occurred to her then—she hadn’t really considered her cardiac health all that much. Sure, she’d been a bit worried about it recently, but she didn’t think about it as a distinct part of her. She supposed she’d abstracted it somewhat—it having took on the appearance of a classic cartoon heart in her mind's eye, rather than the complicated mass of muscle it actually was.

Natsuki tried to give herself a shake. The present moment was far more pressing than this weird little detour her mind had taken… she needed that heart to beat again.

The compressions let up and air flooded her lungs. She relished the feeling. Breathing was good…

More of that, please…

She was met with more compressions. It would have been a relaxing cycle, if not for the mortal terror of it all.

Attempting to shift her mind elsewhere, she thought of her heart again. She could feel it so clearly, after all… perhaps she could figure out what the hell was wrong with it. She imagined turning it over in her hands, looking for anything amiss.

Her mouth being forced open broke her train of thought.

Oh… that’s kind of unpleasant… she thought dreamily as the endotracheal tube was guided down her throat. She wanted to gag, but didn’t, and when air came again at last, it inflated her lungs even more than before.

Alright, tube… I forgive you, Natsuki thought, still dazed. She allowed herself to luxuriate in the newfound oxygen and expected the cycle to resume, but it didn’t—instead of the hands ramming her heart, she felt two familiar weights against her chest.

Natsuki steeled herself as best she could.

Please, shocky things… please work—

The defibrillation forced her eyes open for a moment. Her heart, as with every shock before, locked up and ceased its twitching. She could see her chest arching against the paddles; the large, ugly bruise that had settled between her breasts; the breathing tube taped in place at her lips, and the many medics desperately trying to save her.

Maybe she was imagining things, but… she thought they didn’t look particularly hopeful. Her organ had stilled. There was an agonal contraction after a long pause, and then it started quivering again.

Natsuki groaned. The shock had hurt like hell. And not only that, but it had failed to revive her. At the very least… the pain was evidence she was still alive. It had to be. She tried to recenter herself, but—

They must have increased the voltage. The electricity snaked through her muscles, pulling each one taut as the current leaped from one paddle to the other. Her spine bowed and her heart seized with the current. She could trace the individual nerves of the organ as they fired all at once, the muscles at their end squeezing with as much strength as they could spare. Then—as before—it relaxed and returned to spasming.

Natsuki was getting a little frustrated now. Weren’t they supposed to call out ‘clear’ or something? A little more warning would be nice…

The compressions returned, and she began to riddle over her fibrillating organ once more. There must be an issue with her nerves—they were still sending out signals, but not the right ones. That must be why her heart was shaking instead of contracting. She traced her own cardiac nerves, trying to find which ones weren’t working, not sure what she would do if she found the right one…

The paddles were placed around her heart again.

Okay… gotta focus, she thought, with newfound determination. When the shock comes, I gotta force that nerve to—

The defibrillation rocked her body. Her heart contracted; its electrical signals scrambled. Natsuki traced the current…

There!

At the top of her heart, there was an entire cluster of nerves firing all at once from the external current. One of those nerves stood out to her, and even though she couldn’t tell how… she knew that was the one.

The charge dissipated, and her heart fell still. It stayed still.

The sinking feeling from earlier came back tenfold and Natsuki fought hard to keep her head above water. She was suddenly so cold, and the sounds from outside grew ever indistinct. She could only just barely make out the team’s voices…

“Asystole…!” One attendant shouted.

“Losing her!” She heard another cry.

The sensation of the chest compressions returned to her, but numb and distant.

Her life flashed before her eyes. Memories from the early days, when her mom was still around… those fleeting peaceful moment between the shouting matches and slamming doors. She hadn’t taken Natsuki with her, when she left—and she’d always blamed herself for that.

She was a pitiful child, after all. There were the years where she barely had any friends—thin and destitute, scrounging around for whatever food that man left for her—never enough to fill her. She was reminded of learning to bake, so she wouldn’t starve over summer break, and the comics she gorged herself on to give her any sense of hope.

More recent images flashed before her. Like joining the Literature Club and meeting all of her new friends.

That man being arrested, freeing her at last.

Planning for college. Baking new things—not for survival, but for fun.

All of it so recent. And so, so short.

Natsuki suddenly saw that all she would amount to would be a girl who never got the chance to really live—who got only the smallest taste of a good life before it was cruelly snatched away.

The darkness boiled around her; the cold threatening to consume her.

No!

She was not going to die!

Natsuki desperately thrashed against the death that surrounded her. She could still feel her body—the chest compressions, the air pumped to her lungs; the faint sounds of the efforts to revive her. She pushed upward, as if swimming towards the surface of an endless lake.

Natsuki had spent years reading manga. She tended toward slice of life and comedy—stories of girls just hanging out and having a good time, but she had read a bit of everything. Horror, romance, erotica, dramas, sometimes even action/adventure, if she was feeling a bit bored of her usual fare.

She envisioned herself as the protagonists of one of these adventures. Downtrodden, bloody—but standing up and defying the odds nonetheless. The second wind was coming.

She was going to survive this.

In her mind’s eye, she wrestled with her heart; begged it function. She pleaded and coaxed, and then, she was overwhelmed by an awful, acidic burning sensation in her veins. It moved closer to her heart with each press on her sternum, and she felt sick about it, but she knew it was likely the doctors still trying to save her and tolerated it as best she could.

The drugs soon arrived at her cardiac center. Nerves, once quiet, began to fire again. Slowly at first, then swiftly gaining speed—before long, the muscles attached returned to their unconditioned shaking.

Yes! Natsuki reveled in her triumph, even though it was largely the drugs that had done the heavy lifting.

Come on! Hit me again, shocky things!

As though the team could hear her, the weights of the paddles were promptly settled onto her chest again. Natsuki readied herself, but her timing was off. The fibrillation continued, and she prepared for the next jolt.

Three, two, one…

Another current rolled through her and she rode along it, pouring every ounce of her will into forcing her heart to beat once more. The cardiac muscles tightened, then relaxed, then remained still.

The darkness swirled around her. Natsuki clung to the light.

That was supposed to work, damn it!

Time was dilating again, and the creeping coldness settling in was fogging her mind. The distance between the compressions and voices stretched on further and further, as though she were adrift at sea, being pulled further and further away by the unforgiving yet undeniably gentle tide…

She felt more acidic drugs pouring into her veins and thought—for a scant moment—that her heart would react and start spasming again. But the organ did not respond. The voices of the medics cut in and out, hazy; painfully indistinct. Despite her senses failing, she still picked up the droning cry of the monitor, a flatline certainly running across it. In her altered state, it signaled to her that there was some great, terrible predator stalking around her, waiting to take her into dissolution.

My name… she thought desperately. It’s… my name is Natsuki. I like good manga, cute things… and baking! She tightened her focus. And… I love my friends, Monika, Sayori, and Yuri. God, Yuri… if I live for anyone, it’ll be for you!

She held onto this thought loop for dear life. A shield against the tide, against the cold, against the predator stalking near… if she could just hold onto herself… her friends…

Something changed. It was hard for her to focus on other things, but this was different. The compressions had stopped, but her heart wasn’t twitching. The asystole alarm continued, although distorted, as if she was hearing it underwater.

Oh… they gave up… she thought, despondent.

After all that, despite everything, her time was up.

The immense void moved in.

Yuri…!

She was numb, completely and utterly, but… there was no doubting it. She was being cut open. She struggled to remember why that might be happening.

Was she… dead? Was this a morgue; an autopsy? Something cold forced her ribs apart, snapping them like twigs.

That hurt. That hurt!

She remembered the names of her beloved friends and focused on the pain.

If I can still feel pain… then I must be… still alive…

Something new invaded her chest. They wrapped around her heart and squeezed. Hands, maybe. Blood shot through her arteries.

Natsuki rallied.

They haven’t given up! They’re still trying!

Her mind was scattered, but she tried to focus. She centered her attention on her stubborn heart.

Come on… work! Do something!

More drugs. It all felt so terrible, but she grit her teeth and didn’t dare break her focus.

A flutter. Then another, then her whole heart was thick with fibrillation once more. She could feel it so clearly; it was injured, weakened from its ordeal. The repeated shocks, the drugs, the lack of oxygen… and something deeper.

Some small thing that had always been there.

Natsuki lacked the vocabulary for it, but she knew, more than anything, it was the root cause. It wasn’t her nerves misfiring for seemingly no reason—it was this. This little thing she didn’t have a name for.

This flaw.

Small metal discs were placed against her heart.

Mini shocky things… she thought hazily. She knew she didn’t have much fight left. The creature stalked, just outside her perception, she knew—waiting for her to slip up.

Wait for the right—

Her heart was the sun as the charge smashed into it. Even though the capacitors were smaller, it was many, many times more intense.

Natsuki shook it off and readied herself. Her heart continued to shake meaninglessly.

Heh… rule of threes, she thought wryly. It’s now or never…!

The third hit. As her nerves sparked and fired; as the cardiac muscles clinched; as blood sloshed forward from the artificial beat—Natsuki took hold of one thought and bent all her will towards its success. She screamed it, howled it, bellowed it:

BEAT!!!

The heart relaxed as the charge dissipated. It was still.

Then, a nerve fired. Others followed. The muscle contracted—dared to contract.

And again. Then it stumbled, but caught itself.

Ba-dup… ba-dup… ba-dup…

If she could, Natsuki would have collapsed out of sheer relief.

She’d lived. She’d fucking lived.

She knew that her heart was still in poor shape; that she wasn’t out of the woods just yet. But that didn’t matter.

For now, she was alive. The rest could come later.

A new darkness rose around her, a friendlier one—a blanket of simple unconsciousness. She took the offer; she was exhausted in her bones. Her friends' faces rushed past her; she’d kept them. Held on so tight. Let them guide her back to the world of the living.

“I’ll see you soon, okay…?” she murmured, too quiet and indistinct for anyone to hear.

Her heart continued to beat. It was battered… and Natsuki knew, deep down, than it wouldn’t last much longer in the grand scheme of things. But for now, it would fulfill its function. Softly, as if exhausted itself, it beat.

And Natsuki lived.

[roxiewyatthb]

Your Property

Synopsis: A cardiophile reaching into another cardiophiles chest, controlling their heart (in a way that powers allow you) as requested by @maddieheart wc:577 cw: heart squeezing, irregular heartbeat, heart vocabulary, teasing

"Can I use it on you again?" They spoke up, voice quiet but stern.

Their partner stood silent for a brief moment, knowing exactly what they meant by "it". The night was quiet and relaxing, something they both enjoyed after a hectic day, but it seems that would be interrupted now -- not that either of them would ever decline -- it was just unexpected tonight.

Their heart started beat faster at the thought of them doing it once again. It was always thrilling. They loved it.

"As if I would tell you 'no'." They chuckled, adjusting their position from laying on the bed to now sitting up against the bed frame, "I'm all yours." Those words escaped breathlessly.

With haste, they scooted over to their partner -- waiting for them against the frame with their chest exposed -- completely ready for what they wanted to do.

"Okay..." Their voice trailed off while they reached forward to drag their hand across their partners bare chest, palming along the skin, feeling their heart pound underneath, "You know what to do."

With that cue, their partner took a deep breath in.

And slowly released it.

As they breathed out, a light colored aura coated their hand and was now slowly reaching into the chest of their partner. With each passing second they got closer to their heart.

"You're doing great...just a little more." They reassured them, now millimeters away from the muscle that pulsed life into their partner, and in less than a second they would make contact.

Cold fingers wrapped around their heart, causing it to skip a beat and flutter at the sudden contact, and also causing them to laugh at how their partners heart reacted.

"It always flinches when I touch it. It's so cute."

They only respond with a nervous laugh -- even with the amount of trust they have for one another it's always nerve-wracking to have someone physically touch your heart.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle. I always am," They lightly squeeze their heart, forcing it to stutter even more, "Aren't I?"

Their partner tried to stifle a pleased noise, biting down on their lower lip to prevent anything from leaving their throat.

They laugh again at this gesture, smiling sweetly at them while rubbing a soft thumb against their right ventricle, enjoying the feeling of their heart now racing in their hand.

Faster.

They grip it a little harder -- a little rougher -- enough to make it pause and pick up once again but at an even faster pace.

So fast.

Stumbling.

A few beats pass before they decide to move again, this time they'd try something completely new -- using both hands.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Their partner asked, voice wavering at the sight of their other hand now reaching into their chest.

"I want to feel all of you..."

Two hands wrapped around their heart now.

The first one stood in it's original place while the other reached further up to carefully squeeze their fingers in between their superior vena cava, aorta, and pulmonary artery.

This new feeling is exhilarating. It felt so much different than just wrapping their fingers around their ventricles. It was so much more...intimate?

They felt each beat -- each passing of blood -- between their fingers.

Contracting and briefly hugging each finger in unison.

The only thing that would top this right now would be seeing their heart in front of them, beating away.

That would be an ability they'll strive to learn next.

[ay-heart-collection]

Story writing: The Assassin Lesson

Greetings everyone. I am trying to get back some story ideas of heart back in my mind with AI support.

I understand that many people feel resistant to AI currently, but I think it could be a chance for some of my buried ideas digging back to light. I think it should be OK for make use of it for drafting and brainstorming. Wish you will accept it and like it.

-------------------------------------------------------

The Assassin Lesson

In a training site of an assassin group, the mentor lady of the group stood before her class of aspiring young assassins. The leather suit covered by hooded cloak outlined her beautiful body curves. Her piercing gaze surveyed the room, which cause the atmosphere become thick and heavy, but brought a hint of anticipation to the class.

As one of the master of assassin in the group, the lesson of the mentor lady was focusing on the fatal spots of the human body. Before she began her lesson, she brought a beautiful female with a slender figure to her students. She was a young thief captured in an incidental encounter during a mission. Her upper body had been stripped naked, with her wrists bound with tight restraints, stood at the front of the class. Her eyes wide with fear.

"Today, we shall delve into the skill of piercing the human heart."

The mentor lady began, her low and commanding tone sending shivers down the spines of her students. With a swift motion, she spread out a drawing of a human heart, its delicate form sketched meticulously on a piece of parchment.

Walking towards the captive, the mentor caressed the girl carefully, and made use of some simple drawing tool against her bare chest. Soon, a line art appeared between her petite but firm breasts, aligning it with the actual size and position of her ribcage and her heart beneath. The students leaned forward, their eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before them.

"Now, observe," the mentor said, her voice unwavering.

"The human heart was protected beneath the ribcage, nestled within the chest cavity. To truly strike a fatal blow, one must understand its position and structure."

She pointed to the various parts of the heart drawing on the captive, her finger tracing the major arteries and ventricles. The young thief’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breath shallow and uneven. Which felt like the mentor’s finger directly touching her myocardium.

"The atria, the ventricles, the aorta," the mentor continued, her voice filled with an unsettling mix of knowledge and detached fascination. "Each component is vital to the heart's function, and each represents a potential fatal spot."

The young thief visibly trembled, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape that was not forthcoming.

"One wrong move, and the heart's delicate rhythm is disrupted," the mentor said, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "A swift and precise strike, however, can send the body into an irreversible state of shock."

At this point, the mentor paused, allowing her words to hang in the air, the weight of her lesson sinking in. The students exchanged glances, fully aware of the power they were being entrusted with.

"Now, my dear students," the mentor said, her voice rising with an unsettling intensity, "let me introduce the tools we mainly use for piercing the heart.”

The mentor's eyes gleamed with an aggressive pleasure as she revealed an array of common weapons used on the table with a quick motion. As she began explaining each weapon in meticulous detail, the captured girl's terror was palpable, her eyes widening in fear as she gazed upon the deadly tools before her. Feeling as if these sharp edges had already torn her horrified heart.

"First, we have the thin, needle-like stiletto blade," the mentor said, her voice dripping with a chilling enthusiasm. "Its slender form allows for precise entry, slipping between the ribs without causing unnecessary damage."

As she spoke, the mentor demonstrated the correct posture for piercing, gently pressing the stiletto against the girl's exposed skin, mirroring the intended action. The girl's heart beat erratically, a visible thumping against her left breast. She shivered, her body tensing involuntarily at the sensation, a cold sweat forming on her forehead.

"Next, we have the wickedly serrated dagger," the mentor continued, her voice filled with a sinister delight. "Its jagged edges can tear through flesh and bone, ensuring a quick and devastating stab."

With a swift motion, the mentor mimicked the piercing action on the girl's skin, her hand moving in a delicate manner. The young thief let out a stifled gasp, her heart pounding even harder in her chest, as if resisting the impending violence. Beads of crimson blood welled up where the blade had made contact, as a testament to the sharpness of the weapon and the fragility of human flesh.

The mentor's eyes narrowed, relishing in the power that played out before her. She continued her lesson, each weapon explained and demonstrated with excellent precision.

"Now, behold the slender yet deadly rapier," the mentor said, her voice taking on a haunting resonance. "Its long, piercing blade can navigate the narrowest of spaces, reaching the heart with deadly accuracy."

The mentor positioned the rapier against the girl's skin, her hand poised to demonstrate the thrusting motion. The captive's breathing grew shallow, her body trembling uncontrollably under the weight of her fear. As the mentor made a swift but soft thrust, the young heart skipped a beat, as if mirroring the terror coursing through her veins.

As the mentor moved through the remaining weapons, the captured girl's terror only intensified. The mentor's explanations were accompanied by demonstrations on the girl's soft skin, each movement were calculated and precise. The pain and fear etched on the captive's face mirrored the darkness hidden within the mentor's own soul.

"In the next section," the mentor lady paused a second, staring at the captive. "We are to demonstrate the precise locations where the weapons should enter the body, piercing the heart." The terrified thief stood frozen, her eyes wide with fear, as the mentor approached her with a gaze of dominance.

"Pay close attention, my dear students," the mentor commanded, her voice laced with an eerie calmness. "As we delved before, the human heart was well protected within the chest cavity. To penetrate the heart efficiently, we must aim for specific entry points. Allow me to explain."

The mentor positioned herself behind the captive, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, as if guiding her through the macabre lesson. The captive's body trembled beneath the mentor's touch, her breath was quick and shallow.

"First," the mentor began, her voice resonating with authority, "We have the area between the 3rd and 4th rib, near the sternum. This position allows for a quick and efficient stab, aiming directly at the center of the heart's chambers."

With precise movements, the mentor's hand mimicked the action of a weapon, her fingers hovering just above the inner side of the captive's left breast, indicating the location. The captive flinched, a shiver coursing through her body, as if she could feel the cold steel of an imaginary blade piercing her flesh.

"Next," the mentor continued, her voice low and steady, "we have the space between the 4th and 5th rib, commonly known as the apex of the heart. Representing the tip of the left and right ventricles. Striking here can disrupt the heart's rhythm and lead to swift incapacitation," the mentor paused a bit, "And this is actually my favorite piercing spot."

The mentor's hand shifted slightly lower, held tightly under the left breast of the young thief. Her heart raced in response, the rumbling apex hammering against the palm of the mentor. She bit her trembling lip, her eyes darting nervously between the assassin students and the weapons displayed on the table.

"Moving on," the mentor said, her tone filled with a chilling precision, "we have the area below the xiphoid, right below the heart. Here is the blind spot of the ribcage coverage. A well-placed strike here can cause severe damage from the bottom of right ventricle."

The mentor's hand descended further, hovering just above the captive's abdomen, her fingers poised as if preparing to strike. The captive's breath hitched, her body tensing as if bracing for impact. The room seemed to grow colder as she saw the focused eyes of the assassin students.

"And finally," the mentor concluded, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "We have the area over the clavicle. This position allows us to bypass most of the chest armor and ribcage, to penetrate the atria and aorta directly, provided the weapon is long enough."

The mentor's hand moved to the captive's collarbone area, caressed the pulsating veins underneath. The captive's eyes widened, a mix of terror and realization reflecting in their depths. The mentor's teachings had painted a dark path ahead, one that demanded a cold and calculated approach for her fellows students.

"And NEXT..." the mentor scanned the room, her eyes flickering with amusement.

"Is the time for PRACTICE."

Hearing this, the captured girl’s heart sank to the bottom of abyss. She knew that her doom was imminent. Her heart raced uncontrollably, pounding against her chest as if desperately trying to escape its impending fate.

The mentor asked her students if any of them would like to recommend themselves for the upcoming practice session. Excitement filled the air as most of the girls eagerly raised their hands, their faces lit up with anticipation.

With a sinister smile, the mentor selected a student from the eager faces. The chosen student stepped forward, took down her hood, her eyes shined with expectations and determination. The mentor allowed the student to have her pick of weapon and piercing spot, relishing in the power dynamics that played out before her.

The student's gaze lingered over the arsenal of deadly tools, selecting a weapon with a menacing aura. She ran her fingers along the blade, savoring the anticipation that filled the room. With a wicked grin, she turned to face the captive girl, her voice dripping with delight.

"I choose the serrated dagger," the student declared, her voice tinged with a chilling excitement. "And I want to strike at the apex of her heart, just like the mentor I admire."

The captive girl's eyes widened in terror, her breath catching in her throat. The mentor's own smile widened, seeing the fear etched across the captive's face. She nodded approvingly, allowing the student to proceed with her choice.

The student approached the captive girl, her movements deliberate and calculated. The air grew heavy with tension as the serrated dagger glinted ominously in her hand. The captive girl's heart was beating in an insane rhythm, facing the incoming intent to kill with full of fear and despair.

As the student positioned herself, the mentor watched intently. Her eyes glimmering with a twisted joyous. The student's hand trembled with anticipation, staring at the throbbing point below the left breast of the shivering young thief. Her blade poised to strike. The captive girl's body tensed, her eyes locked on the weapon that would soon pierce her vulnerable flesh.

"Don’t blame me." whispered by the young assassin.

In one swift and merciless motion, the student thrust the serrated dagger right between the 4th and 5th rib, torn the captive girl's heart from the apex. The room seemed to freeze in that moment, the sound of the blade piercing flesh echoing through the air.

The captive girl let out a choked gasp, her eyes widened with agony. Her body kneeled down, convulsing with the searing pain that seeped through her being.

"Come, my dear," the mentor held up the young thief, and let the outstanding student to listen to her last heaving chest. "Remember this faltering heart sound, representing our power, and the fragile of life." Her desperate heartbeat, staggered with the spurting sound of blood, echoed in the mind of the student.

Her heart, the very core of her existence, reacted with a final surge of desperation. It beat wildly, as if fighting against the intrusion, a futile attempt to cling to life. But the cruel reality of the situation prevailed, and with each weakening beat, the girl's life force slipped away.

The mentor watched with a twisted satisfaction as the young thief's body slumped, lifeless and still. The room fell into an eerie silence. The mentor's eyes gleamed with a sense of accomplishment, reveling in the darkness that had unraveled within her students.

"Observe, my dear fellow students," wiped the stains on her student’s cheek, she declare to everyone with determination. "This is what we have, the power deciding life and death. But remember, the fleeting nature of life binds us all. We have to be skilled to avoid becoming the next fallen heart."

The End

[risherrd]

[fredwardart]

Pulse

Kimi Räikkönen/Sebastian Vettel • 215 words • Cardiophilia • Domestic Fluff • Seb is a Cardiophile

For @wolfsbanesbite 😊

(thank you to @watercolor-hearts for being the font of all cardiophile wisdom and helping me word things).

Full story under the cut.

"I can't find my pulse." Kimi spoke into the silence.

Seb turned his attention away from his book and looked over the brim of his reading glasses. His lips curled up into an amused smile as he watched Kimi run his fingers over his wrist haphazardly.

"Here." Seb reached across the arm of his chair to Kimi's outstretched hand.

Seb found his radial artery almost instantly, but he couldn't resist taking a second to let his fingertips wander along the tendon in his wrist. Kimi's skin was always soft, irresistible to touch.

Kimi watched intently as his radial artery pulsed under Seb's fingers. He could feel how it was slow and steady, but it picked up a little as he imagined the effect it would be having on Seb. He hoped it was making Seb feel as warm inside as he does whenever he laid eyes on him.

"71." Seb stated, his voice light with curiosity. "Why did you want to take your pulse?"

Kimi offered a small smile as he took Seb's hand in his.

"I wanted to hold your hand."

Seb chuckled, smiling softly. He focused his attention back onto his book, and gave Kimi's hand a soft squeeze, running his thumb over the wedding ring on Kimi's finger.

[destroymeinherz]

The Party

A little while back someone posted about a fantasy of being passed around a stethoscope party, with different people listening to their heart. I don’t remember who did so if it was you, I hope you like this. It sparked creativity,

I could continue if anyone wants another part. But I wanted to do the basic idea.

The Party

I’d just signed with a modeling agency. It wasn’t the most exclusive, sometimes the jobs weren’t exactly what I hoped but college was expensive, so I took what I could. How bad could it be? It’s not like I planned to run for office or something.

My agent called me after classes one afternoon asking if I’d be interested in a gig that was more unconventional. After a few basic questions for my safety, nothing seemed too offensive even if it was secretive, and a rep from the agency would be there in case of trouble, I decided to take it.

Friday night I arrived at a big mansion just outside the city. From the looks of it this was old money, probably descendants of oil barons and railway tycoons. Which meant the paycheck would be huge. They’d promised a large payout for anyone who stayed til midnight.

I was let into a large foyer and usher back to a small hallway to a butlers parlor. A woman checked my ID, checked my name off a list and then looked me over.

“You will be required to wear one of two outfits tonight,” She instructed, pulling two hangers off a rack of clothes. “Black is standard, you are willing to do anything that would be clothes on. Call it PG-13.”

She held up a black Herve Luger bandage dress for emphasis. Then in her other hand, she held up a red one nearly identical to the former.

“Red,” She continued. “You are open to sexual behavior, and by wearing red you are giving consent to sexual advance,”

Well, I was single and I was never a prude, so I took the red. Might as well have a bit of fun. Once I accepted my color choice, she handed me an iPad with a waiver basically stating that I would take proper precautions, assert myself and under no circumstances attempt to contact anyone I met here after the event. I would ask for aid if I felt unsafe and leave without a scene. If I did not make it to midnight, I’d be compensated $200 per hour worked.

I shrugged and signed. She then held back a curtain for me to change in a small closet. I slipped inside, squeezed into the dress and as I was ushered to a door she fit me with a bracelet.

“If you need out, press the red button. Security will extract you.” She informed. “Are you ready?”

I blinked. Extracted? My heart started to pound, suddenly feeling crushed by the tight dress. What did I get myself into. But… the money was clouding my judgement. So I nodded, and the door opened. Once I cleared the threshold, it closed behind me.

Just walk around. Be eye candy. That was my only instruction. So that is what I did.

The room was a parlor, antique and dimly lit. It was full of golds and deep rich red textiles, dark wood and gold finishes. Old leather bound editions of classic literature adorned the bookshelves. I felt like I’d gone back in time. Or I was in a vampire’s house. My heart thudded at the thought.

The room was also full of people, in fine clothes, expensive tuxes and dresses. All of them wore masks like a masquerade. As I started to work through the crowd they watched me, with hungry eyes. Maybe I was in a vampire’s den. I was about to be dinner. There were a few other girls dressed in the red or black, varying heights and hair colors and skin tones.

I swallowed and tried to will my poor heart to stop trying to escape my chest. Until finally, a man approached me.

“Well, aren’t you lovely,” He said, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and he brought it to his lips. He then moved his fingers down my wrist, stopping to feel my pulse. He offered him a soft smile. Then, he nodded before he motioned a waiter over.

The waiter came with a silver cloche, removing the dome top and extending the tray to the man. But there wasn’t food. It was a line of various stethoscopes. His fingers danced along them as he made his selection, a red tube that matched my dress.

He waved the man off, then examined it before placing the buds in his ears.

“Now, deep breath for me. Like a doctor’s office.” He said as he placed the diaphragm on my chest,

I was surprised, but I did as he asked, breathing in deeply and feeling my heart kick in my chest. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

He must have enjoyed the sound of my heart because he moved the diaphragm around my chest, smiling to himself and eventually he stopped. He listened for a long time, and even behind a mask I could see his eyes were closed.

I blushed. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

Finally, he opened his eyes and moved the diaphragm away. He took the ear pieces out and looked around. Then he must have seen who he needed, because he waved to someone.

“You have a perfect heart, my dear.” He said.

“Uh, thanks…” I replied.

Another man approached, he also had a stethoscope. He looked to the first man oblivious to me and waited for why he’d been called over.

“I think she’s the one. Take a listen.”

The new man finally looked at me. I smiled at him but he simply leaned in with his own stethoscope and listened to my heart. I took a deep breath like I had before.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

“I think you’re right,” He replied. “Take her in, I’ll grab the others.”

The others? I blinked in surprise. Is this all it was? A bunch of cosplayers listening to my heart for a few hours? That didn’t seem so bad. Even if they wanted to listen to it during sex or something. That was actually, kinda hot.

“Come with me,” The first man said.

I nodded as he took my hand again. This time he lead me down another hallway to a different room. He opened the door and brought me in, then closed it behind me. It was more of a sitting room with a beautiful chaise in the center, raised up on a platform.

I recognized some medical equipment from various movies or doctors visits. Nothing seemed too concerning.

“Now, lay down on the chaise,” He instructed. “You may stay clothed for now. But do remove your shoes as to not damage the upholstery.”

I did as he asked. Once I was settled, he returned to my side. He brought the steth out again and gently placed it on my chest. He let out a content sigh as he listened to my heart pound.

As he listened, others started to fill the room. They lined up behind him. I had never expected anything like this. Just lay here and let them hear my heart beat.

“Before we continue, could I get you anything? Water, soda, wine?”

I smiled. “What would you like me to have?”

“Oh you are cheeky.” He grinned. “Perhaps a little caffeine, to stimulate you. What does everyone think?”

There was a nod of agreement from the group and some muttering of approval. The first man smiled and had one of the caterers being me a soda can on a platter with a straw beside it.

“Go ahead and open it, then use the straw to limit your movement to drink.” He instructed.

I did as he asked. Once the can was open and the straw was in, in leaned over to the table where it sat and drank a few gulps. As I did, the man placed the diaphragm on my chest again.

He closed his eyes, listening and seemingly very content with the sound. Finally he opened them, took my hand and kissed the back of it. He stepped aside and the next person in line stepped up.

There was no clock in the room but it felt like time slowed in this room. Each person took their turn stepping up to my seat and just listening to my heartbeat. Some had me drink the soda, some had me lay down, some had me sit and stand quickly. I’d stand there and pant through running in place and jumping jacks in a too tight dress, as they listened to my heart’s reaction and then recovery.

Ba-dumpba-dumpba-dumpba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I had to admit, this was fun.

The last person was a woman, she couldn’t have been much older than me. She seemed more keen then the men had. Her eyes were bright behind her mask. She took a deep breath as her gold and white stethoscope settled on my chest.

“My… your heart… it’s by far one of the loveliest I’ve heard.” She said to me, her voice was lustful. “May I rest my head on your chest? Hear it directly with my ear?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Would you like to hear your heart while I do?” She removed the stethoscope and offered it.

The people in the room all watched, eager to see how I would respond. Well, why not? If it made them happy it was my job tonight. I don’t think I’d ever heard my heartbeat before, not like this anyway.

“Okay. Sure” I replied with a smile.

That was the right answer as she grinned with excitement and placed the ear pieces in my ears. Then she placed the diaphragm down on my skin and rested her ear next to it.

I inhaled as I had before and my head filled with the rhythmic thumping they’d all been indulging in for the last few hours.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I closed my own eyes and lost myself in the sound. Maybe I should come to these parties more often. Hearing the steady beat, knowing it was mine… that was intoxicating.

“Do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah. I think I get the vibe.” I responded.

“Are you ready to try something a little more interesting?” The first man asked, approaching me slowly. “You can refuse any of the requests, we won’t take offense or change your compensation. These would be granting special requests.”

The stethoscope was removed from my ears and I almost whined about it. I liked hearing my heart, understanding what they were hearing. What they enjoyed that brought me here.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

End?

[beatinginavoid]

Can you write something about a young man being stabbed to the heart and left to bleed out? He's still conscious as the tamponade compresses his heart muscle and someone eventually finds him and calls an ambulance. A dramatic resus scene ensues...

Hello, hello! Sorry for the long wait. I'm not big on resus, but I hope I did the request justice.

🗡️🫀

It was quick. It was all so fast. One moment Dan was leaving the building and walking to his car, the next someone else appeared seemingly from nowhere. It was late, and he had stayed behind at a café to try and enjoy a drink, some food, and some background ambience before going home.

A person, dressed entirely in dark clothes, had blindsided him. Silver flashed under the moonlight, then a sharp pain engulfed him. He had fallen to his knees and then collapsed onto his back.

So here he was, staring almost unseeingly at the night sky, the light pollution reducing the visible number of stars.

An odd warmth covered his chest. Dan raised his hands and clumsily patted across his chest. He looked at his palm to see glistening red liquid.

Oh. He was bleeding. That was bad, right?

His mind, whirling and confused, told him pressure – apply pressure. Dan found the spot that hurt the most and placed both hands over it, trying his best to press down. It was only then did he notice his hands were directly over his heart.

In that moment, the pain truly registered. Every beat of his heart panged in pain, every agonising thump pounding in his head as well as his chest.

This was bad. This was so bad. Dan knew nothing about medical things, but any idiot would know that getting stabbed in the heart was way up there on the bad scale. His lungs were still working, but his vocal cords had decided to take an impromptu vacation. Any attempts to call out for help were thwarted before they started.

He would likely die here, and some poor soul would trip over his cold corpse hours from now. What a dismal way to go. Crimson warmth pulsed underneath his palm at a steady rate. How long did it take the average person to bleed out? It would be quicker since the blood was being pumped directly from the heart – the centre of the circulatory system.

The process being fast meant it would be less painful until he no longer felt anything. Which was looking better and better as the pain in his chest started growing. Despite the blood leaking out of him, Dan’s chest began to feel tight, as if a band was around his ribs slowly compressing them tighter with every shaky, desperate breath.

His head felt strangely floaty, but his heart was sending clear signals to his brain. Every contraction of his cardiac muscle, every inflation and deflation of his lungs, was screaming inside his mind, cutting easily through all of the fog.

Each thump pounded even as it felt like a fist was around the pump, the fingers squeezing without relent. The beating in his head sounded muffled and breathing became more and more of a chore.

“Holy shit!”

A guy appeared over him, looming like a vulture, eyes wide and mouth open in horror. The man fumbled for a moment before bringing a phone up to his ear. Dan heard the word ambulance spoken amongst a bunch of gibberish and a tiny spark of hope lit up in his struggling heart.

His blood soaked hand was nudged aside and a folded jacket replaced it, two hands pushing it down far more firmly than Dan had managed. His breath hitched slightly and he groaned at the pressure and increased pain. Now it felt as though there was a heavy weight trying to crush his ribs from the front, even as the imaginary band around them squeezed the sides tighter.

Dan’s heart thudded awkwardly, feeling as though it skipped several beats, then stumbled its way through several more, before doggedly picking up the pace under the new onslaught.

The poor thing did not feel up to this challenge anymore. Although going faster, the beats did not feel as strong as before. Dan’s mind vividly conjured up the image of his cardiac muscle shaking and wobbling like a runner on their last legs, the blood barely being moved until the muscle spasmed once then fell still.

Was he dead?

No, no, he could still feel the organ pumping inside his chest.

How much longer could the injured and stressed heart keep going?

The guy’s face was looming in his blurred and shrinking field of vision again. The mouth was moving, but nothing seemed able to penetrate the cotton wool stuffed in his ears, and surrounding his brain, except for his own thoughts, shallow panting, and uncertain heartbeat.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thumpathump… ba-thump… ba-thump… ba-thumpthumpthumpthumpthump…… ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump…ba-thumpathump………… ba-thump……… ba-thump…… ba-thump…… ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpbathumpbathumpbathumpBATHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP… BA-thump…BA-thump…ba-thumpathump…

There was no dancer in the world, no matter how talented, that would be able to dance to such an erratic, off-key, mess of percussion.

Dan could no longer feel his fingers or toes. If he was moving them, he couldn’t tell. Were they even still attached? His head felt so floaty that he wasn’t entirely sure it was still stuck to his neck. His neck, which was linked to his torso. His torso, that was being crushed, squashed, and squeezed relentlessly. The effects of which were making it very hard for his lungs to inflate like they should. His lungs, that surrounded his heart, were unable to give the beating muscle enough room for it to do its job adequately either. His heart, pierced, injured, somehow still gamely struggling along.

A struggle that was all too likely to end soon.

The guy was still hovering over him, still pressing down his chest, still talking. The words were no more audible than before, but now the man’s face was no longer in the dark. It was oddly alight, flickering quickly between red and blue, like he was in a colour limited rave.

Dan didn’t remember going to a rave. He had been in a nice, quiet café, right? Was he still there? No… No, he’d left. He was outside. That was right, outside in the cold. He didn’t feel cold. Shouldn’t he feel cold?

Not being cold didn’t feel bad though. So, it was a good thing, right?

Something about that set alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind. But his mind was too fuzzy to properly register them, let alone dredge up the energy to do anything about it. Dan was tired. So, so tired.

Tired people should sleep, right? Sleep was healthy and important.

His eyes were halfway closed when a new blurry figure popped into view, also flickering red and blue. Their mouth was moving too, although Dan couldn’t hear them either.

Had the rave damaged his hearing? No, he hadn’t even been at a rave. He’d just established the events in his mind, hadn’t he? Ugh, thinking was hard.

His head, which he was ninety-nine percent sure was only hanging by a thread, pounded dully in time with the out of tune drum in his rib cage. It really was an awful beat - musicians would weep in sheer horror and frustration.

The guy pressing into the drum really needed to stop and let the poor instrument retire.

There was an odd sensation, and Dan swore as the pressure on his heart shifted. It was as if every fibre of the moving muscle was trying to beat while being pulled completely taut, the strain visceral despite the blood that slicked the whole surface. Things slid over his skin and an image of his ribs being exposed popped into his mind.

If someone were to crack his ribs and spread them, Dan would be grateful. It would probably do wonders to help alleviate that vice grip they were currently held in. The world flickered in and out, black, red, grey, and blue cycling around and around.

Voices still eluded him, but high-pitched beeps broke through the muffling silence. They sounded random and quickly became irritating. Dan gasped fitfully as his lungs stuttered, unable to do their job. The lack of oxygen quickly affected his already stressed body, and his heart grew weaker with each irregular beat, the muscle pulsing slower and less effectively until it grew still.

The darkness swallowed Dan and he knew it would never again be light for him. His chest was no longer tight at least.

“We’re losing him!” said one of the paramedics as the heart monitor line fell flat.

“There might be too much damage,” said the other paramedic.

The first shook his head. “There has to be something else wrong. The blood pressure didn’t match the cardiac output. I think…”

He dug into the large bag next to him and took out an imposing looking needle. He pulled the cover off the metal tip and plunged it into the flesh near the stab wound in Dan’s chest. The plunger was slowly pulled back, dark red blood filling up the empty space it created.

“Of course, a cardiac tamponade,” the second said ruefully. They immediately began chest compressions, the blood-slicked surface threatening to slide their hands out of position.

Blood dribbled out of the stab wound with every press, Dan’s life hanging in the balance with every forced, artificial beat.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump…

Would it ever beat on its own again?

[fatalrhythms]

TW: CNC little CYOA i wrote a couple of weeks ago based on an old fantasy of mine 🥰